

UntitledIf god was a potato would we love the light the shadow of sleep hangs over my mind and body chalk scratching across the board people scratching across the street ideas scratching across the internet planet scratching across the velvet-stretched sky.Untitled
If god was a princess would she have the head of a beautiful woman with the body of a cucumber the marx brothers doing mad libs with an alligator pie.
Heroic couplets dance across the floor, Until they find their way up to the door. And tumble out with last week's laundry.
If god was a gong who's to say freedom wouldn't ring poem scratching across


Game NightShake. Toss. Clatter. Lets see thats thirteen plus six. Nineteen. Nineteen. Thats a hit. The paladin swings his sword and nearly shears the griffins wing off. Okay, now its his turn. Another player picks up the small plastic jewel. Twenty sides. Icosahedron. Shake. Toss. Clatter. A natural one. Thats a miss. The wizards spell fizzles in her hand. The master sits across from us, behind his screen. The griffin attacks the paladin. Shake. Toss. Clatter. Natural twenty. Thats a criGame Night


MallWe climb up, up Away from the dim, dim Metro. The stairs move beneath my feet The sky is grey and heavy with clouds The air bites with a chill Should have brought a coat. Im a Minnesotan Im tougher than this. But I should have brought a coat. On solid concrete again, looking In a wide arc. Green grass and trees Interspersed with gravel and blacktop, Surrounded on all sides by huge Buildings, trying to look impressive on this chilled DC day. People. Theyre all over today. At the popcorn stands The hotdMall


Half-Elf, Half-DwarfHalf-Elf, Half-DwarfHalf-Elf, Half-Dwarf
Arctus looked up ahead at the light flickering from the cabin window. He could see all across the large grassy meadow between the edge of the woods where he stood and home. The herdsmen had taken the sheep home by now. He had one rabbit with him and a whole lot of empty snares. There was no denying it. He just wasnt meant to be a trapper. The locals said anyone with elven blood was a good hunter. But then the locals assumed that elves were better at everything, from hunting to singing to walking. What was that they always said? Anything a man can do, an elf can do while balancing on a tightrope ma
| I am a college student with a low opinion of his writing, an appreciation for the overweight female form, and a devotion to literature of almost all stripes. I play Dungeons and Dragons when I can and I love single-player RPG's. I am also a Minnesotan with a dislike of work and a deep love of good food. |
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My whole world does not revolve around fat girls, you know; I leave that to the expansion writers.
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Nothing ever ends
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Awkward turtle... BABY TURTLES!!
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